Candy Zombies
by corneroffandom
Summary: Strange things happen on Halloween. Especially in the WWE.


The day starts off normally, Alberto staring at himself in the mirror as Ricardo collects the things needed for that evening's Raw, preparing to carry them to the limo waiting below.

Since becoming champion for the second time, Alberto had decided to leave his classic cars for his actual entrance, not risk them on the careless American streets more than neccessary.

They're on their way to the lobby when excited children run past, almost knocking into Ricardo and his tenuous grip on the heavy suitcase that Alberto insists on bringing to each Raw.

As Ricardo regains his footing, _El Patron_ looks over his shoulder at the squealing group, frowning when he realizes what they're wearing- the little girls look like lady bugs and a fairy while the boys look like Dracula and a pirate.

Ricardo, catching his facial expression, smiles slightly. "It's Halloween," he says, pressing a button to summon the elevator.

Alberto blinks, nodding as he mouths the word to himself. "I had forgotten," he comments after a few moments.

Upon arriving at the arena, Ricardo and Alberto both pause at the door, surprised at how quiet and dull the hallways seem. They exchange a glance before Rodriguez shifts his grip on the bag, waiting for Alberto to make the first move. There is a strange vibe to the arena, creeping towards them like evil fingers.

He finally huffs a breath and continues down the hallway, his locker room thankfully not far from the entrance this go around. Ricardo sighs in relief as they arrive and he settles the suitcase carefully down on the floor, flexing his fingers to return feeling to them. The odd sensation from the hallway is here too, only slightly lessened when they shut the door.

Alberto spends a few hours in the room, going over footage from recent CM Punk matches, his dark eyes taking in everything while looking for weaknesses from the other man. Their possible match is still weeks away but the man always begins preparing early.

Ricardo remains nearby for Del Rio to suggest things to and, despite his not being a full time wrestler, he knows the business well and throws in a couple of ideas to strengthen Alberto's own.

"That's enough," Alberto muses after awhile, turning the television off. He stands, turning towards the door.

Ricardo watches nervously, the foreboding sense of _something_ about to go wrong still lingering, leaving him dreading being left alone. Thus, he follows the other man out to the hallway, shutting the door quietly behind them. Alberto says nothing, walking resolutely towards the gorilla position, where the board marking planned matches and segments await them.

Halfway there, Alberto's focus shifts, his face turning to the left as his footsteps falter. Ricardo pauses as well, gazing in that direction, a cold sensation passing up his spine. "What is it?" he whispers, stopping as Del Rio lifts a hand in warning to remain quiet. They both listen, straining to catch whatever had attracted the world champion's notice.

Ricardo, feeling vulnerable and watched, shifts closer to Alberto, careful not to distract the other man. They're still standing there when he hears something too- a distinct shuffling noise down the hallway. They exchange glances and Alberto shakes his head, liking the situation less and less by the moment. "Come on," he mumbles, turning back towards the locker room.

Ricardo nods, breathing a little easier with each step as the door comes closer and closer. Out of every place they'd been so far, the locker room seemed the safest somehow, less creepy. They're almost there when the sound happens again, the grating sound of shoes against tile, impossibly loud in the pure silence of the arena.

Alberto turns slightly and grips Ricardo's shirt, like he does when he wants his attention or is anxious about something. Their eyes lock briefly as the sound continues, gets closer and closer.

"Run!"

"_Vamonos_!"

They take off quickly, the door nearly in reach. It's not until they're almost there that they hear it again- the haunting sound of people shuffling around in the otherwise silent building. Coming from behind them and in front of them. They freeze once more, at the edge of the hallway that melts into the line of locker rooms. Exchanging a glance once more, they linger there, afraid to look around the corner or behind them. Somehow facing whatever awaits them seems worse than lurking in limbo, unaware of what is to come.

Alberto's hand still tangled in the fabric of his shirt is the only thing grounding Ricardo as he tries to breathe quietly, not wanting to inspire action from _whatever_ is lingering in these halls. He had never put much stock into Halloween or its scary stories designed to freak children and gullible people out but here, now, he's genuinely frightened as he waits at Del Rio's side for something to happen.

Finally the champion huffs an exasperated, tired breath and peers around the corner. Whatever he sees sends him backwards in a hurry and Ricardo follows, equally as wide-eyed despite not seeing anything. "What was it?" he whispers, lips parting as Alberto shakes his head and pushes Ricardo back the way they had come.

They're nearing a side-hallway when that sound comes again, loud and echoing and impossible to ignore. Alberto freezes once more, his hand tightening against Ricardo's shirt, almost enough to begin choking the other man out. He checks behind them surreptitiously before cursing desperately in Spanish. Ricardo has no time to respond before he's being pulled forward, feet stumbling as he tries to keep up.

There's a second exit down a hallway ahead from the gorilla position, Ricardo realizes, as they rush past the abandoned desks and equipment, lunging down towards the small gleam of light that's just visible from the small door at the end of the corridor.

They're almost there when something strong and unyielding grabs the back of Ricardo's shirt, tugging him forcefully backwards. He yelps as Alberto's grip slips, just barely clinging to him. "El Patron!" he gasps, his breath coming even harsher as his clothes cut off his air, pulled this time from behind.

Alberto freezes, horrified, and turns to look. His fingers just barely manage a grip on Ricardo's shirt but there's nothing to be done, Ricardo can tell- whatever else has him is too insistent. Their eyes lock one last time and Ricardo uses the last of his energy to tug Alberto's fingers free from his shirt. "Go!"

He moves backwards slowly, in a daze, as what exactly they had been hearing for the last while becomes apparent- many of the other Superstars, looking like something out of a horror film, are filling the hallway, their eyes dazed and skin pale as more and more of them advance upon Ricardo.

Unable to look away from the mob, his hand stretched out behind him to make sure he doesn't trip over anything, he watches on in shock as Ricardo disappears from sight, surrounded by the group. They appear to be chanting something but Alberto is unable to grasp what exactly as his hand finally hits the door, fumbles for the handle, and runs.

_"NO!"_ Ricardo wakes up with a choked gasp, his hands clenching at the bedding beneath him as reality returns sharply. "Oh God," he pants, dropping back against the sheets. After a few moments, he tilts his head to look at Alberto, who is on the edge of his own bed, looking troubled. _It couldn't possibly..._ "Did you...?"

He looks up slowly, his lips twitching slightly as his dark eyes hesitantly meet Ricardo's. "Have a nightmare?" he asks, accent thick and harsh. "_Si_."

"The arena was empty," he says hesitantly, trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Or so we thought," Alberto muses with a deep frown as Ricardo sits up, the realization rocking through both of them. They had dreamed the exact same thing at the exact same time. "What _were _they saying, did you hear?" the Mexican Aristocrat demands, his inability to determine that one thing just before he awoke bleeding through into the waking world.

Ricardo licks his lips anxiously, the horrible feeling of their cold hands holding him captive in their circle returning to him. He shudders slightly and rubs at his arms. "They were demanding..." He blinks a time or two, trying to make sense of what he's about to admit. "Candy?"

Del Rio stares at him for awhile before realizing he's utterly serious. "So I see."

An awkward silence follows this as both men try to shake the feeling of dread and anxiety that had been the after-results of the dream. "Alberto?"

"Yes?"

"I think we should stop for candy on the way to the arena... you know, just in case."

"Very well."


End file.
